


Real Love Maybe

by achievewriting



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Again, Alcohol, Birthday Party, Fluff, ive got a problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 17:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14383404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achievewriting/pseuds/achievewriting
Summary: You and Alfredo settle a bet.





	Real Love Maybe

**Author's Note:**

> it's not 100% necessary, but i do strongly recommend you listen to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IOspC5B69L4) before or while you read the following fic.

It takes a certain kind of atmosphere and a certain amount of drinks to get you in a party mood, and Burnie’s 45th is serving up both of those. You were planning on getting in at least one more drink before you danced, but the music filling the room is making a hard task out of standing still.

Swaying lightly in time, you turn from the bar to take in the cavernous room. Half the company must be here - every face you see is familiar, from those chatting in booths, to the crowd on the dance floor, to the pool tables in the corner. You’re about to return to your table with Ryan and Jeremy when a particularly familiar face emerges from the crowd in the middle of the room.

Alfredo catches your eye with a grin, and you feel yourself light up as he makes his way towards you. You hide your smile in your glass, but it does nothing for your blush.

“Feeling dancey, are we?” He leans his shoulder against the bar you’ve got your back to, close so as to be heard over the music. He smells like Calvin Klein and jägerbombs.

Craning your neck to face him, you quirk an eyebrow. “Maybe.”

“Good,” he says. You’re only buzzed, not drunk; still, you lose your footing for a second when Alfredo grabs your free hand and pulls you from the bar with a shit-eating grin. “Because these are some _jams!_ ”

You laugh and ignore the way your heart picks up at your hand in his. “Weren’t you getting a drink?” The closer you get to the dance floor, the more you have to shout to be heard.

“Got what I came for.” The smile he shoots over his shoulder this time is softer, bashful.

You’re glad you don’t have a mouthful of wine, because you would have choked on it. You can’t dance with a glass in your hand, so you hand it to Jeremy as you pass your table. You miss the disbelief on his face, and the smug expression on Ryan’s, as you let Alfredo lead you into the crowd as the next song starts.

_Real Love Baby_ is something special - the kind of song you could either slow dance to, or go crazy over in your pyjamas while you make dinner. You and Alfredo find an easy medium; he takes your other hand and you _groove_ \- there’s no other word for it. He mouths the words at you with exaggeration, to your amusement, and you sing along as well. When he spins you around to press your back to his chest and cross your arms over your waist, you can hear his voice in your ear, comically high and and half a key short of in-tune. Laughing, you can’t believe the absolute lightness and elation you feel. Whether it’s the song, the alcohol, or whatever it is Alfredo is up to, you don’t know, but you hope it doesn't let up.

When he spins you back around, Alfredo drops your hands in favour of your waist, so you clasp them at the back of his neck. You look up to see his eyes narrowed and his pursed lips resisting a smile.

He leans down, “Don’t look now, but I think Ryan and Jeremy are betting on us.”

You look immediately. At your table near the edge of the dance floor, Ryan leans back in his chair, talking smugly at Jeremy, who has his elbows on his knees, tapping his wallet nervously against the tight line of his mouth. You shrug, now repressing a laugh of your own as you turn back to Alfredo. “Can you blame them? We’re the biggest case of _will-they-won’t-they_ since Pam and Jim.” You’d both made the joke before, but it still gave you butterflies every time you said it. You and Alfredo had clicked the moment he walked in the office door nearly a year ago now, and you’d never had the courage to make it a case of _will-they_.

“Oh, of course they can’t be blamed.” He says, the pity in the upturn of his eyebrows at odds with the ear-to-ear smile on his lips. “It’s just so fun to watch them suffer!”

Grinning, you peer through the crowd at your coworkers again. “That it is, Fredo.”

He laughs and swings you both back into rhythm as the last chorus begins. The song is winding to a close when Alfredo leans in to speak again.

“You wanna rob Jeremy of some cold hard cash?”

You know exactly what he means. You don’t believe it’s happening, but you know what he means. You nod dumbly, a smile ruining any pretense of composure you might have had.

The playful glint in his eyes is replaced with the kind of fondness that never fails to make you blush. “Cool,” he smiles, before he leans down again and pulls you closer. Your eyes slip closed as his lips meet yours, warm and soft and slightly chapped. Gently, your mouths move together, and it’s like someone has finally blown on the smouldering embers in you, and now everything is on fire. Alfredo’s cheeks are flushed when you pull away, his face lit up with a grin to match yours. For a heartbeat, all you can do is stare, and the lightness from before is back in full-force.

Then you both remember the punters on the sidelines and you glance over just in time to see Jeremy slap a bill into Ryan’s open hand. You laugh together as people around you either clear off or drag others into the fray for another song.

When you look back to Alfredo, his soft smile takes you aback. “I think Ryan owes us a drink,” he smirks.

“Wanna see if we can get him to owe us another one?” You try not to sound too hopeful, but it doesn’t matter - Alfredo’s already pulling you back in and bringing his face to yours.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”


End file.
